


9 O'Clock

by marimoes



Category: One Piece
Genre: Canon Universe, Complicated Relationships, Drinking, First Kiss, Lucci can play piano, M/M, Paulie can poorly sing, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-09
Updated: 2020-02-09
Packaged: 2021-02-19 05:14:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22639555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marimoes/pseuds/marimoes
Summary: When his fingers start to press down for a fourth song, loud rattling of doors echo through the room. Lucci nearly doesn’t turn around to look, figuring a local has decided to go home drunk off their ass trying to swing past. Still, he settles into the bench and continues to play low chords before turning to look with a single judging eye. What he finds is indeed a local, and they are drunk off their ass, but they aren’t leaving.No, the poor fool that is making noise right now is merely arriving, and he’s no stranger.
Relationships: Paulie/Rob Lucci
Comments: 8
Kudos: 29





	9 O'Clock

**Author's Note:**

> *blows kiss into the sky* for Krys

Blueno said that it would ‘liven the place up a bit’ when he shifted the upright piano against the wall some three months ago. A poor excuse for something that Lucci knew was pointed at him, but still he said nothing. Mostly because he couldn’t. 

He didn’t like to admit that he missed it. That familiar calm that always comes from sitting in front of the keys never disappears, no matter how many times Lucci’s hands rest on them. They’re a faded color, more akin to cream than ivory, but Lucci doesn’t mind in the slightest. If anything, it’s better that the piano is old. 

The stories that weigh on it’s hammers much like the scars on Lucci’s back. 

So, when he’s here at Blueno’s at nine on a Saturday, Lucci knows just what to do. He requests a brandy, the kind from the top shelf that’s now reserved for him, and he settles down at the piano. The floor is covered in much more than the dirt and water of the island, it’s also covered in cracks and stories. When they leave here, plans in hand and mission accomplished, Lucci really wonders how much he’ll miss this place. 

After all, Lucci muses as his fingers glide from a black key downwards into a small rift, Water 7 isn’t all bad. There are things that make it desirable. Things that have made the last year in this city worth while, and didn’t think he would find when they were assigned here. Things that make his neck hot if he thinks about them too long. 

“Play us a song, piano man.” 

It’s a local that says it, and Lucci has to compose his face before turning to look at him. He’s older, years pulling lines into his face, along with a smile that deepens his dimples. He’s drunk, or at least he’s on the way to getting there and he waves a hand. It speaks volumes that Lucci wishes to burn, but still, he lets his mind consider what to play. 

This week was long and demanding, and his soul is worn in ways that he never imagined it could be. Not after the life he’s lived. Nothing on the docks can compare to the lives he’s taken. Yet, they have eroded his exterior just a bit, revealing a smooth surface beneath. 

Lucci decides on an old folk song that he remembers from his childhood and his hands start to move. A correct choice it seems, as the room goes from a mixed roar of different conversations to a quiet focus. _Good_ , Lucci thinks as his fingers trill the hook into the chorus, _I can finally relax._

That stays true for another two songs. Each one met with cheers from the locals and Blueno himself smiles when he brings Lucci another brandy. This one with a twist in it, and the taste makes Lucci’s head swim a little. He’s actually enjoying himself, sitting here with Hattori curled up on the top of the piano, his small black eyes staring with contentment. 

When his fingers start to press down for a fourth song, loud rattling of doors echo through the room. Lucci nearly doesn’t turn around to look, figuring a local has decided to go home drunk off their ass trying to swing past. Still, he settles into the bench and continues to play low chords before turning to look with a single judging eye. What he finds is indeed a local, and they are drunk off their ass, but they aren’t leaving. 

No, the poor fool that is making noise right now is merely arriving, and he’s no stranger. 

Paulie’s hand is curled around the shutter door with knuckles a deep red as he struggles to hold himself upright. His face is nearly matching in color with a goofy grin tugging on the edges around his cigar. He’s gone in almost every sense of the word, and Hattori perks up with a ruffle of his feathers in interest. 

Hattori doesn’t particularly like Paulie, so to see him do this, it’s odd to say the least. The bird looks to Lucci, head turned in curiosity, and he knows what question he’s asking. The only thing is whether or not he feels like answering him. A decision that has to be made in haste as Paulie spots Lucci, and he knows this because he hears it: the excited exhale that Paulie always makes. 

“Luuucci! You’re playin’? Shit!” Paulie barks out, hands catching every chair he can touch as he makes his way across the floor of the bar. The other locals chuckle to themselves, clearly used to Paulie’s antics like he’s the small child they’ve all looked after at one time or another. “Wascha doin’ next? Can I pick?” 

Lucci’s left hand stills as his right one places his glass back on the lid. This time closer to the opposite edge as far away from Paulie as he can get it. It’s not that he likes brandy, anyways. A fact Lucci learned a long time ago, on a night not too different than this one. Which is how he also knows _why_ Paulie is drunk: he’s broke. 

Dragging a chair from a nearby table, Paulie shakily places it no more than a foot away from Lucci’s bench. He drops onto it backwards, legs wrapping around the posts to give himself support, and his arms fold along the top to create a makeshift pillow for him to rest on. Lucci doesn’t move during any of this. He just watches it all happen with a small voice in his head begging him to do something. 

Do what, he isn’t sure, but just something to deal with the disaster that has stumbled in. 

“Allllright, Lucci. Play a poor man a song.” The words are sad and true coming from Paulie’s lips. Each one hidden in a mumble that Lucci can barely make out. His mouth pressed into his arm makes understanding him difficult, and for a moment Lucci can start to understand how frustrating it must be to talk to him. “It can be anythin’, you’re _so_ good.” 

Paulie’s eyes shut softly, and the blush that begs to form on Lucci’s cheeks is swallowed back instantly the moment Hattori coos. His question again pecking at the awkward tension between the men, and when Lucci turns back to face the keys he shakes his head no. He doesn’t want to talk to Paulie right now, not while he’s drunk. 

He’s been down that road before and has no interest in traveling it again.

Instead, Lucci recalls a song he heard when he was stationed a few years ago at a bar that also had a piano. He never really played that one, seeing as the place had a hired musician, but that was fine by him. They had a good selection of liquor, quiet locals, and that was good enough for him. 

Maybe, the song can calm Paulie too. 

Playing the first chord, Paulie’s eyes flutter open and he hums trying to match it. He’s off by at least two steps, and Lucci bites back a smile. Paulie is so damn charming. Especially when he’s like this, drunk with all of his usual guards down. His goggles are tilted on his forehead, and the band is pulling against the top of his right ear making the skin pink. When he leans further against his elbow it snaps back against his head. 

Lucci’s chest pulls at him to say something, to perhaps sing the lyrics of this old song with lyrics about a love lost at sea. He doesn’t have to do either, because Paulie does it instead. Chin pressed up on his forearms, he breathes in a deep breath and smiles. 

“O’when he’s gone and left you hollow, you’ll stop to take a breath an’ swallow, hoping you survive.” Paulie croons, hand bouncing slowly. His voice is like a honey whiskey, both in sound and scent, leaving Lucci to have to focus harder on the keys. “Maybe he’ll come back to see ye’, with his hair as fine as glass. Locks showin’ through the early morning, or maybe he will simply pass. Your lover, and his life.” 

Lucci continues playing, letting Paulie mumble the words the best he can, and rather than get annoyed like he expected to, he instead settles into peace. Paulie is quieter, even though he’s singing, and it feels like someone new. Someone that, if not for their mission and if not for Paulie’s utter devotion to the man they’re trying to underhand, Lucci could see himself getting close to him. 

Truly close to. 

When the song rounds off, leaving Lucci’s hands poised at the final chords, the room gets quiet. An eerie loss of the common roar and Paulie’s head shoots up in notice. He quickly goes to look around, but nearly slides off his chair in the process, and Lucci has to grab his arm to keep him upright. The feeling of his hand pressed around Paulie’s bicep feels like a small fire has been lit between them, but he still holds tight. 

“Ah, t’anks.” Paulie smiles, teeth showing proudly and he reaches up to place a hand over Lucci’s. “I got it. Don’t worry, I’ll go home.” 

Lucci loosens his grip, but is still captured beneath Paulie’s. It’s warm, calloused from their work, and Lucci’s mind drifts for a second. Quick snapshots shoot to the forefront of his mind without restraint; Paulie’s hands at the nape of his neck, the red flush of passion along Paulie’s collar, the shape of his mouth as he—

“You ok yourself?” 

Paulie has pulled up to stand, swaying gently to stay in place and Lucci blinks. His mind is now void again from it all and Hattori jumps from the piano to on his shoulder. Low breathing fills Lucci’s ear and it forces him to breathe along. 

“I’m fine.” Hattori says and Lucci looks up to Paulie, face composed. “I’m going to head back for the night. You should too.” 

Paulie’s lower lip curls in clear distaste for the sound of Hattori’s voice, but he nods. Throwing a hand up as a goodbye, the bar gives one in return to before turning back to their own conversations. The more Lucci is around Paulie, the more he realizes just how much he loves this island, and how much this island loves him. 

So, when he watches Paulie nearly take a door to the face — hands trying to grasp the edges that he can’t quite hold — Lucci decides on something that he hopes he won’t regret later. He taps Paulie’s shoulder, a singular finger pressing into the worn denim of his jacket, and pointedly jerks his head. The direction is towards Paulie’s place just around the harbor — on the complete opposite side from Lucci. 

“I’m _fine._ Just go on, p’mise, you need sleep.” Paulie whines, head falling slack onto his shoulder. He looks younger like this. Childish. “I could get home with my eyes closed.” 

When he starts to walk away, hand in the air to reassure, Lucci almost buys it. Almost, but Paulie still veers closer and closer to the edge of the canal with his every step. Old stone scuffs beneath his shoes, grating against Lucci’s ears. He wants to call out and warn Paulie, but he’s too far ahead to hear Hattori now, and it’s then that Lucci knows he’s going to have to follow this drunk asshole home. 

“Goddamnit.” Hattori mutturs quietly. 

Running forwards, Hattori bounces gently on Lucci’s shoulder with feet digging into his skin with each stride. When Lucci leaps forward to wrap a hand around Paulie’s arm, it barely keeps him from completing the final sway that would’ve landed him into the water. Water that Lucci couldn’t save him from even if he wanted to. With a current faster than Paulie could swim against right now, it would leave him pouring out into the ocean. 

If he didn’t drown before that. 

Paulie looks back in drunken bewilderment, but stabilizes against the support of Lucci pulling him back. The scales again balance for them. A shake of metal on either side while they teeter slowly, bringing each other back to a level field. 

Paulie shakes his head, much like a dog would, and his goggles fall onto the ground. The click is soft, a reminder of sorts to Lucci that he’s still here, and not just dreaming. This is really happening. Standing here out in the light of the moon along with a man that he can never show himself to, all the while both of them have alcohol pumping through their veins. 

It’s cruel almost, to be in such a cliche place with a man that makes him start to reconsider every piece of their plan. Very cruel indeed. 

When Paulie leans over to pick them up, he wobbles before falling a little against Lucci’s leg. A laugh bubbles from him while he readjusts; both himself and the eyewear on his head. While Paulie is firmly twenty, Lucci can tell that he’s still not where he was at that age. Paulie likely never will be, given the things that Lucci has seen. The things that he has done over the span of his twenty five years. 

“Let’s go.” Hattori coos, and Lucci tugs Paulie forwars, only to be met with resistance. “What now?” 

Paulie looks up at Lucci slowly, gaze heavy beneath his lashes, and it’s as if he’s looking right through him. For the first time in years, Lucci finds himself somewhat afraid of what will happen next. Even though Paulie is a dumb man — making bets that aren’t sound, and running out of money the moment it presents itself — he is not stupid. 

Not by a long shot.

“You’re just, man, so pretty sometimes.” Paulie murmurs, blush of far more than liquor coloring his cheeks. Lucci lifts his eyebrows and Paulie groans. “I know, I know. I shouldn’ say that a man’s pretty, but _damn_.” 

Hattori ruffles his feathers at the compliment, almost flustered himself and Lucci shifts in place. The weight of Paulie’s words are hitting harder than he would ever imagine that they would. Of course Lucci knows that he’s attractive, it’s part of why he’s so skilled at what he does. No one is going to question someone with a face like his, and with confidence in their step. 

“Thank you.” Is all Hattori says before Lucci tugs on Paulie’s arm again. “You really need to get home. If you’re hungover tomorrow, Iceburg won’t be pleased.” 

Paulie groans again before jerking his arm from Lucci’s hold and stumbles forward back towards the buildings. His feet scuffing like a child would when they’re irritated and Lucci feels his chest tighten in irritation. Why is Paulie making this so damn hard? Why can’t he just let him take him home so that this can all be over with?

“I’m _fine_. I’m going, I’m goin’.” Paulie almost yells, and Hattori flies forward to land on his shoulder. His beak pecks at Paulie’s ear and he yelps out in pain. “Goddamn bird! What do I have to do to get you to leave me alone?” 

Hattori answers by pecking one more time before Paulie swats him off for good. 

As Hattori starts to return to his spot, Lucci holds up a hand in silent command. Paulie doesn’t see him do this of course, he’s too busy whining about if there is anything on his jacket. Lucci waves his hand gently, a signal for Hattori to leave, and for the first time Hattori hesitates. He circles for a moment around Lucci, eyes clearly trying to find a different meaning, but when Lucci again gives him the signal to go home, Hattori understands. 

In a quick huff, the bird takes off higher into the sky giving one last glance back to Lucci. The request hasn’t been unusual the other times that Lucci has had him leave. Usually because of some amount of danger or otherwise, but now, with the only thing present being a drunk Paulie — he can’t say that Hattori won’t bother him later. 

But it’s easier like this. When Paulie is drunk, he’s more willing to open up and be himself without the annoyance of watching for Hattori. Maybe, Lucci can find something out with him like this. Maybe he knows where Iceburg keeps the papers that they’re after. 

It’s not likely — but it’s not unlikely either. 

Lucci sees the way that the two work together. How Iceburg always manages to come around the ships that Paulie is specifically working on at that time. That he lingers a little long when they speak to each other. These are the things that Lucci has been trained to pick up on, but with Paulie all it does is leave him with a small amount of unease. A pit no bigger than a cherry in the bottom of his stomach, left to rot away. 

He hates that. 

Jogging forward again, Lucci settles in a similar rhythm to Paulie as he continues to navigate back towards his apartment. At first realization that he’s there, Paulie winces — no doubt waiting for Hattori to again bother him — but relaxes when he notices that he’s gone. Like a heavy coat being taken off, Paulie straightens up his back then. 

“So, you sen’ em away?” Paulie slurs, eyes darting around his head, trying to figure out where the bird went and if he’s just waiting in the shadows to attack. “Why’d you do that for? You can’t talk without em.” 

Lucci presses his lips together into a tight line, teeth gnawing at the skin inside before releasing them. His shoulders move into a shrug and Paulie accepts the lack of answer easily. It seems that he’s captured more by the street diverging in front of him than anything else. A beat passes before Lucci realizes it — Paulie doesn’t remember his way home. 

“Ah, shit. Which takes me there faster again? First or third?” Paulie mumbles, rubbing his chin in thought. Lucci watches the action, brain recalling exactly how to get back to his place faster, and in a moment of weakness, points. “First? I trust you.” 

_I trust you._

_You shouldn’t_. Lucci thinks, and starts walking behind Paulie who has already started to move. If he wanted to, he could’ve lead Paulie astray, only to dispose of him in an alley. The thought burns a little in his mind. How quickly the idea of just getting rid of the man that’s making him feel something came up...Lucci isn’t sure how to feel. 

“So, you’ve been here a year now. How ya likin’ it?” Paulie almost hums and falls back to nudge Lucci’s shoulder. He rubs Lucci, the wrong way apparently, because Lucci pushes him back without thought. “Awe, com’on. I thought we were a liiiittle close.” 

Lucci swallows at the idea. Being close to anyone, much less this dock worker, it makes his stomach turn. Even his own team, the ones that are here on this island to assist him, he wouldn’t call close. That would be admitting that he needs others, that they aren’t just people for him to use at a whim. Not just powers that are at his disposal. 

Paulie loops a quick arm into Lucci’s and hops once, trying to meet his eyeline a little more. His breath is fresh of alcohol the closer he gets to Lucci’s face, and when it wafts back down as he settles, Lucci sighs. _I should’ve just let him fall into the river. It would’ve been easier than this._

“You thinkin’ of staying here for good? You’re a real natural, Lucci.” Paulie sighs, elbow tightening in the crook of Lucci’s arm. The casualness of all of this: his arm, his smile, his blush. Lucci’s end is burning hard and fast to a breaking point, only held together by getting Paulie home. 

Lucci looks down at him and nods. A single, polite nod, but you would think that Lucci answered with fanfare by the look in Paulie’s eyes. They’re star filled, brimming with excitement that Lucci wishes he had the ability to extinguish, but something tells him that doing that is a harder task than he can imagine. 

Turning the final corner, Lucci spots Paulie’s place. It sits at the end of the street, small but separate from the other buildings, and Lucci wonders how he managed to snag a place like that. Even he is in a building alongside other tenants, making what he does in secret that much harder. Still, it benefits Lucci well when Paulie takes a final leap forward towards his stairs. With a yank of his shoulder, Lucci reacts without thought and pins him against the alley wall.

He wasn’t thinking. His hands simply moved to maneuver the drunk against the brick outside of his building in a form of defense, now leaving his fists clenched around the collar of Paulie's jacket. Paulie blinks in surprise to the force, mouth barely agape from the air that left on impact, and Lucci freezes. _Goddamnit, now I’ve done it._

“Oh.” Paulie says, smacking his lips once. His pupils are blown staring back at Lucci, and after a pause he leans forwards. “Really?” 

“Really?” Lucci mutters, word slipping from his mouth like a piece of paper into the wind. No matter how fast he moves, he cannot catch it. It’s already out the window, blowing down the street. 

It flutters, smacking Paulie in the face. 

“Hey, you-” Paulie starts, but is cut off by the hard press of Lucci’s lips against his. Body slackening like loose rope cut from it’s post, Paulie falls into Lucci’s control. His lips part, sighing at the mix of liquor between their breath. It’s a terrible mix, but addicting all the same. 

Lucci feels it. The tug in his mind telling him to back away, that his mission to shut Paulie up is complete — but he’s held. Eager lips still hungrily wrapped around the ones between his teeth. The world slips away for a moment along with his thoughts, and Lucci lives in this space instead. He stays pressed up against Paulie, molding him into the brick that supports him, and can feel the buzz of something more than intoxication hovering in his mind. 

This is a different kind of drunk. Very different. 

When they pull apart, chests heaving for the air that they’ve deprived themselves of for the last few minutes, they say nothing. Only the sound of soft waves washing against the side of the canal, coupled with the soft caw of seagulls fill their ears. Lucci’s hands shake for the first time that he can remember, but they stay held on Paulie’s collar. 

“I think...I’m drunk. Like, _really_ drunk. I thought you just spoke, but tha’ can’t be.” Paulie mumbles, tone sadder than Lucci has ever heard from him. His eyes search Lucci’s face, like he's trying desperately to uncover something that isn’t there before settling back on his lips. “I’ve wanted to do that since the secon' week I knew you. Just never thought I’d get the chance.” 

Paulie’s hands come up to curl over Lucci’s and tug at them until he releases. He holds his wrists firmly, eyes focused on where their skin meets, and squeezes a final time before letting them fall between them. Lucci can’t move, can’t speak as Paulie slides to the right out of his space. All he can do is watch as Paulie shoves his hands in his pockets trying to find his keys, and when he comes back with rope, sighs. 

“Thanks fer walking me back. I appreciate it.” Paulie smiles and turns around the stone railing to start walking up the steps to his door. Lucci stands, mind still piecing things together, but nods. Struggling for a second, Paulie fights his front door but finally gets it unlocked with a low creak. He opens it barely before turning back to Lucci a final time. “By the way, I wish it was your voice...it was real nice. G’night, Lucci.” 

He walks without another word into his place, clicking the door behind him and leaves Lucci alone down on the street. Lucci sighs, thumbs dug into his pockets with his fingers roughly curling against the outer fabric over and over. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

But how could he have known that someone like Paulie would be in Water 7?

“Good night, Paulie.” Lucci says to no one. He turns towards his apartment and starts to walk, feet scuffing as he goes. 

**Author's Note:**

> Lucci playing piano is hot and no one can convince me otherwise. He has the disposition and the hands for it. 
> 
> Twitter: @__moes__  
> Tumblr: @noswordstyle


End file.
